Ripples are enough, love.
I’m telling you nicely, gently, wisely,
a fake kind of kindness, advice they don’t mind, agreeable you’ll find…
oh please don’t make waves,
it’s really not safe…
common place, nut-case.
One of the things that came up was rage,
I can now say from a space of solace,
…that it was something I embraced,
fully without an affirmation to replace, run away or escape alarm bells that have something to say,
my stance is defined by this often times confusing double-bind of the mind, but not succumbing to the ease of staying blind.
There is a space to confront, console make whole parts of our soul,
fractured and lost, in the coldness of the frost,
of the dualistic separation, we experience with undying patience,
towards a kind of refinement that cannot be achieved through confinement.
So at the risk of attracting conflict,
a constant, must be met with an acceptance,
of it’s place in time and space yet still walking away towards a better way, so that chips can fall where they may, and we can indulge in a play of the senses,
so let them say, please don’t make waves, and go ahead anyway.